


Diamond Days

by doomingdawn



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 30 Day NSFW Challenge, 30 Day OTP Challenge, 30 Day OTP Porn Challenge, Canon Compliant, Gay, Grinding, I'm Bad At Tagging, Interracial Relationship, Kink Meme, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9001297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomingdawn/pseuds/doomingdawn
Summary: Victor Nikiforov has a complicated relationship with power. Despite all of his success and continued hard work, the great athlete isn’t all brutal assertion. Yuri Katsuki empowers himself with a growing dominant physical and domestic attitude, and their emotional relationship strengthens as their dynamics shift.





	1. Naked Cuddling

**Author's Note:**

> Credit: someone on Tumblr called ‘bluebellglowinginthedark’ made this sexual 30 day shipping challenge (Google is a sufficient citation source here). I’m pretty obsessed with the idea of Yuri Katsuki embracing himself: being happy with this feminine skating persona, being comfortable seemingly as a receiver, and beyond these canons, growing into a rather dominant figure. So, month long power bottom Yuri is a dream for me. He knows what he wants, whether that means submitting or taking control; he’s always the one who’s _really_ holding the reins. Here’s a play by play of their new bedroom. I’ll name each chapter after its prompt to keep it simple. Enjoy.

It took Yuri longer than it took him for silver at Grand Prix to get past his body image issues. Victor, the esteemed coach, his role model and now his faithful lover, took to questioning his figure the moment they truly met. Their first personal encounter, at the beginning of their original saga, was one of scrutiny. Yuri’s main competition shared the same sentiment; beyond ‘fatso’ as a dying term of endearment, ‘pig’ became his second name. And he wasn’t sure why, because he found pigs rather cute and didn’t fully understand why their namesake was supposed to be a biting insult, or a backhanded compliment out of camaraderie. He didn’t feel closer after being called this, and he was confused; he felt conflicted by the way people expected him to feel and how he really felt as a result. He spoke to his dearest friend Phichit on the phone and realized that he had to put his foot down, that certain things which were bothering him might not have even been so straightforward. Perhaps this was damaging his relationships in his mind without the other parties, and largely Victor, even knowing it. This wasn’t obvious. Now was vacation, training aside, so he had to do his best to seize the moment. He knew their affections were growing, that they were becoming closer, and he wanted to start their _physical_ relationship off on the right note. On a comfortable one.

Yuri sat down and explained his feelings. Even as a primed athlete, slender and ripped, he felt himself sucking his ghostly gut in, crossing his legs to minimize the size of his thin thighs. Not only was Victor profusely apologetic, but he said that he loved all of Yuri’s body no matter what its dimensions. He confessed, because it was clear to everyone except for his charge, that the taunting words he may have used, the alternative motivation styles, were simply to drive the competitor the same way he was driven by Yakov. This was different, however; it was different the minute they even playfully bought those rings in Spain. It was different as soon as Phichit didn’t misinterpret it, no, but rather translated the nervous, excited energies radiating from Team Japan. The rings truly were an engagement of sorts, even if they had never touched each other beyond a lingering hug or a passionate kiss. The anxieties of the senior leagues erased any libido Yuri had; he was focused only on the gold, and any sighting of a nude Victor was memorized and converted into a full body blush of horrid embarrassment.

Things were different, now. They were home, not in Russia or Europe or China, and Yuri was expected to relax. With these apologies, these explanations, he started to loosen up. They were in bed, the moon drawing shadows all along a dark wooden floor. He slid his boxers off thoughtlessly, and Victor did the same, and they hugged. Just hugged. Yuri let out a whimper, tangling their lower limbs together, rubbing their calves against one another’s. The taller let out a moan, a deep groan of satisfaction and content and true, true romance. Yuri felt himself shivering, his heart beat rock when their crotches slid against one another. His olive skin against all of the blond’s milky white glory, that chiseled musculature embracing him wholeheartedly. They both grew erect, unabashedly. He saw, he felt: his own smooth curvature, and the other’s beast, a defined monstrosity. Finally, a fuller picture of Victor, and it truly was a glorious one. He wasn’t afraid, because he’d take his foreign mate’s veiny complexities one step at a time, pacing himself splendidly. Night after night, day by day, with entire evenings of mental foreplay which lead to climax only weeks later. It was a glorious idea, but an unrealistic one. Yuri knew well his temperance would wither long before then, but for now, to simply kiss Victor was enough. Their lips moved back and forth, their phallic synchronicity leaking. This was like nothing the younger had ever experienced before, and fundamentally, the same could be said for the Russian whose heart was untouched. Yuri was the one so fixated on sexuality; Victor was simply stunned by the boy’s beauty as per usual. What he saw on ice formed admiration for the other’s duress, endurance, and creativity, but right here, right now, he was breathless. Made speechless by every facet of Katsuki Yuri.

Victor crawled on top of Yuri, and the latter didn’t ask before wrapping his legs around the other’s waist. “This is still cuddling, right?” Yuri asked, and he laughed out loud, that beautiful, melodic chuckle. The grinding was subtle, the motions hardly noticeable. He gripped every handful of Victor’s back, tracing his thighs and rubbing his sides. Victor grinned too, and coughed out: “I love you.” Yuri was quick: “I love you too.” But that was it for now. There was something all too promising about the anticipation of tomorrow, so they left to behave similarly in their favorite hot spring, humming and growling and talking like lovers do. They’d be back at it again tomorrow, Yuri just knew it. He was wondering how long it’d take, with this tension, for him to finally lose himself in Victor. The first time. He could barely wait.


	2. Naked Kissing

Yuri sat on Victor’s lap, the aching muscle of his firm legs draped across the bed behind them. The elder’s own large feet touched the floor, his sizable palms gripping the younger’s plump globes of flesh; he held Yuri from falling back onto the floor, a long embrace of trust. Their arms were locked around one another in a tight bear hug, only suspense elevating them from attacking one another like animals. They were both entirely nude again, but this time, their mouths mashed together without limbs to hold them back. The taller tilted his head to deepen the passionate lip lock, their tongues swirling around in synchronicity. Whatever Yuri was once shy about was now gone. The build up of testosterone was to blame. All of the cardiovascular stimulation and no release, never any release to his pent up need. Going home, smelling of his natural aura, and having to shower beside Victor. Oh, how the elder’s masculine scent bothered him, the heavy musk driving him wild. Now, settled on his lap, he intently noticed the foreigner’s growing erection. Yuri fixated on the humidity of their exclusive closeness, wondering what their sex would not just feel like but sound like, smell like, and taste like, too.

“I’m going to spoil you, one day.” The Russian promised, the quietness of his deep voice in Yuri’s ear enticing. The Japanese lad had truthfully already been so well taken care of, so gratuitous guarantee left him wondering what exactly Victor meant. If, and only if, they could manage to pull apart without much more, it would be the last night of peace. This would, at the most, be the last night they could bathe in their intense love without feeling the strength of intercourse. Of something fuller, deeper, faster. More satiating. Their relationship had come so far with only simple contact. Victor’s tongue moved deeper, clung to the roof of Yuri’s mouth. Either of his lips surrounded his lover’s upper, suckling on it, taking its entirety into his mouth as their eyes shut, overwhelmed. This kiss was not an act of its own, how they breathed in each other’s words and panted for air. This was a liminal space, the promise of intensity as sincere as Victor’s promise was. Yuri laughed: “Tomorrow,” and Victor slid the boy off his lap, stood up, and chuckled to himself before wandering into the bathroom. Yuri swore he was only gone for a minute before coming back with a glow and a soon calm crotch. “Tomorrow.”


End file.
